Hollow
by PrincelyPastels
Summary: Botfighting puts Hiro and Tadashi in a deadly situation that leads to severe trauma. When all is said and done, Hiro has to cope with losing everything. TW: kidnapping, torture, noncon, character death, depression, panic attacks. This story will be explicit, but the main focus later on will shift to Hiro's recovery.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hooray another crap story posted at 3am that I did not proofread. **

_It wasn't supposed to end up like this._

The night was fairly cold, not enough to make people shrink behind bundles of coats and scarves, but enough so that the air ran a chilly finger down one's spine with a long nail. In the least expected of areas, warmth had been accumulated. The backstreets of San Fransokyo, what should have been abandoned was filled with a small crowd of individuals, hooting and boo-ing. In the very center of the chaos, there was two people, seated, tense, alert. In between them were two robots, dented and shredded in some areas, the battlefield around them was littered with lugnuts of past losers, and even just parts from the most recent robots' battling to the death. It was a brutal, illegal cycle, yet it seemed to be a popular outlet for many people of many backgrounds, it was easy money if one's bot was tough enough and belonged to someone smart enough. It was easy money for Hiro Hamada.

He was used to the looks he was given when he pushed through the crowd, a few muttered warily, nudging a nearby acquaintance to get their attention. Though this time, the ringleader of the entire gathering was less than amused. Her lips pursed themselves tightly as she snapped her fingers, a few men immediately recognized the order and promptly swooped over to the small boy among a sea of adults. The warmth of the crowd was sapped away when his cheek was slammed into a cold wall. This wasn't the first time, so he simply stood still, the innocent doe-eyed facade was dropped as his lids drooped, clearly tired of this sort of thing.

"Tulio, Check for wires on him." She hissed, clearly distrustful of a child coming into her gathering. Hiro simply rolled his eyes as they pat him down. They found his first wad of cash, a few crumpled bills and seventeen cents, the man laughed.

"Nothing but lunch money, boss." chuckled the person that HIro could only assume was Tulio. He waved the fives for all to see, which was apparently the most hilarious thing, since the entire gathering roared with laughter.

"Isn't it past your curfew, kiddo?" called one man from the crowd. He was so going down.

Tulio continued to pat him down. Just near the kid's right knee, the man felt a large bulge in the side pocket of the kid's cargo pants. Immediately, he dove his hand into the pocket to fish out the source, he held it up and everyone stopped laughing. Rolls of fifties, a thick one. This got the leader's attention. "What's your angle, kid?"

Hiro attempted to turn his head and respond before the man slammed his face back into the wall, clearly not pleased with the movement, to which Hiro simply lifted his hands as if to show he meant nothing by it as he groaned in pain. "No angle, I have the dough, I want in on the fights- HEY!"

As he was talking, a goon decided upon himself to snatch his bot, poking and prodding, examining the seemingly harmless thing and frowning. It seemed just about as useless as its owner, and more importantly, not a threat. All it took to fix that simple misconception was a single thought and a personalized neurotransmitter placed around Hiro's head. The bot sprung into action, no longer limp as it began spinning its hands, berating the man's knuckles until he dropped the thing.A scowl was given, but no retaliation, luckily.

"No cell, no mic, no cams. He's clean, boss."

Hiro rolled his brown eyes once more, clearly becoming more and more irritated by the second. "I wish I could say the same for you, ever heard of a shower?"

"Watch your fuckin' mouth." growled the adult, shoving the heavy metal-based bot into the kid's hands, which grappled for it hurriedly as not to drop it. The cash was returned as well, the adults were confident they'd have it again in no time. In addition to the absolute shit greeting to this particular ring of felons, Hiro made it a personal promise to beat every remaining bot without breaking a sweat, which would come easy given the fact that he was lucky to get his hands on the technology required to create the little devil known as megabot 2.0.

Tulio seemed reluctant to let the kid off that easy. "You want this brat to join, Miss Kotori?"

The woman looked down, furrowing her brows together as she glared at the floor for a few flat seconds before letting her eyes pop up to scan Hiro. "Let 'im play, it won't take long for his toy to break." She finally said.

"Toy? I built this with the most advanced tech, it's tough as nails and hands-free." Hiro took personal offense to the notion that what he held in his hands was nothing but a worthless trinket. Putting that aside, he began walking towards the action, but as Hiro made his way towards the center, her hand was slapped against his chest to halt him. "Get in line, shrimp." She growled, motioning to the gathering of adults against a wall. When it came his time to pay and play, he set in his first wad, coins and all, a good-luck tradition he'd carried out for a long while.

He cut straight to the chase this time around- he was in it to win, and had no intention of messing around. Backhands, slithering around the enemy, calculated movements designed to distract and buy time as Hiro scoped his opponent's bots for weaknesses. Thirty consecutive wins later, and he was practically drowning in cash. Come the end of the gathering, all dispersed without a fuss, not a single sour soul lingered as he scooped up his cash and waved smugly at the leader, who looked like she had been stricken by god himself. "I can't believe a kid with a _toy_ won this gig." whispered the lady, which had Hiro on her case in nanoseconds.

"I don't make toys, I make fighter bots." Cash bagged and bot in hand, Hiro began sauntering his way out the safer routes of the back roads, since he was aware of where the police tended to look for potential bot-betters.

He was nearly on his way out before someone slid into view, and unfortunately, in his way. Hiro looked up to see that it was a familiar face from the botfighting a few minutes prior, and for a sore loser, he sure did have the grin of a man who struck gold.

It turned Hiro's stomach to lead.

"That was some seriously killer skill tonight, kid. The name's Kuro, by the way." said the man, leaning down so that his nose was level with Hiro's. He teetered on either side coincidentally whenever Hiro began to try and attempt to dart past him on either side. He was in the way and he knew it.

"Thanks, now I have to go, it's, uh, waaaay past my curfew..." He said nervously, still trying to shuffle to his right, then his left as the other mirrored him.

"It's awful late already, surely a few more minutes won't make much of a difference, eh?" insisted the man.

"Well it's a looong walk to where I need to go, so you know."

"I can give you a ride, where are you headed?"

"No, no, I'm good, in fact, I just remembered I... am meeting a friend back where the botfight was, so haha, yeah, better... better go back and uh. See them?" It was much too obvious that he was making the lie up on the spot, but he didn't do well under pressure. The man just simply nodded, played pretend with the little boy before him.

"No, no, we insist."

If he didn't know any better, Hiro would have chalked it up to the guy just being a creep and used "we" just to add to the creep factor, but he knew knew all too well what the man meant. Bot-betters tended to have a ring of followers who pooled up their cash together and split the money won, and if they lost, all that needed to be done was locate the winner and jump them. As if right on cue, a hard hand grappled at the back of Hiro's neck, a tense grip that had the kid cringing. Looking around anxiously, Hiro tried to look for something in reach to grab for before an idea hit him. Wasting no time, he dropped Megabot right on the foot belonging to the man behind him. As anticipated, they immediately yowled and let go of the kid to cradle his foot. Hiro wasted no time to duck past the man and run, using the nuerotransmitter to have the bot skittering after him, two men hot on its tail.

Unfortunately, the boy only got so far before a group of five or so men came sliding out of dead ends connected to the main vein of It looked like Hiro might have to go home empty handed tonight. Broke, but hopefully alive. As soon as he was surrounded, the kid began to laugh again, masking his utter horror as he began digging for his pocketed cash, dropping it to the ground and raising his arms defensively. "All yours, you can keep it, go nuts, I'll just go home and-"

"Sure cash is good for the short term," said Kuro as he pointed to a goon to swipe the cash discarded on the ground, "but having that bot could easily create a more long-term deal." Hair was pulled in at least three different directions as one man leapt at him and tried to yank the headband off of Hiro, successfully confiscating it along with the bot, which was handed off to their leader. He put it on, clearly attempting to test it out, but the bot would not budge.

"The hell is this?" Kuro hissed.

"Sorry to break it to you, but the headband that controls it is only compatible with my individual brainwaves." said Hiro smugly.

"Oh really?" the words slithered out of the man's mouth, oozing with toxic materials, much too dangerous to be exposed to.

The smile never left his face. It widened.

"I heard you earlier, you said you made it yourself, a smart kid like you should be able to modify it then, right? Because either this thing gets fixed to work on my brain or your brain gets acquainted with all the bullets in my gun, and then some."

This was supposed to just be a night of indulgence in the illegal albeit rewarding bot-betting, yet here Hiro was, surrounded by vulture-like men, had no phone to call for help, had no way to run, and was very very screwed. He just thought he was going to have a night of fun, that he would get some money in the very least, and now he was threatened with death over one mistake.

It wasn't supposed to end up like this at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I wanna apologize in advance for the crummy writing this has prolly been done like million times but it helps me feel better so you know...  
**

**EDIT: S O MANY TYPOS HOW COULD ANYONE TOLERATE THIS?**

**I am so sorry, it should be fixed, now.**

* * *

"Is that any better?"

Tadashi slapped the icepack to the side of his neck, covering a brown bruise with icy salvation. "Yes. Thanks aunt Cass." he said softly, to which she simply pat his head. Tadashi's eyes, which were surrounded by dark circles, fell to the tiled floor of the shop as his aunt fret over the various marks along Tadashi's face. For a robot made of vinyl, the thing sure could hit hard- He was just a few lines away from debugging the codes, but until then, Tadashi would just have to cope with a barage of hits and slaps, or any other potential malfunction. At least when he could finally get it to work, Hiro would get to see the end product, and Tadashi couldn't wait to see the amazement on his brother's face. After a few minutes of lounging, Tadashi placed the icepack back into the freezer, gave Mochi a few affectionate strokes, and began heading up to the third floor of his family's home, in desperate need of some shut-eye.

For a moment, Tadashi had a pang of concern for Hiro, and thought of the possibility that he had snuck out, but a simple glance at the lump in the boy's bed made it apparent that his brother was, in fact, safe and sound. Tadashi shuffled over to his own bed, falling down on it with a heavy thud against the fluffy comforter. "I'm home, butthead." He said, words muffled by the blanket currently encasing his entire face. How he missed his bed's sweet, slumberous embrace...

Strange, there was no soft snoring to be heard from Hiro, a cadence that normally graced the Hamada abode nightly. He must have been awake...

And most likely still angry with Tadashi.

Despite being fairly close, the two siblings were far from perfect, and the occasional fight was inevitable. It had involved Hiro's fixation on bot-fighting, Tadashi tried to explain the dangers and risks, the boy refused to listen.

_"Hiro, I am not playing around, the people who are willing to break the laws for gambling aren't afraid to break a few bones, either! You could seriously wind up getting hurt, and how would you explain to Aunt Cass how you got a broken bone, or how could **I** explain to her that you're gone because I didn't watch you well enough? What then, Hiro?" He had asked, tapping his foot and awaiting a reply from Hiro, whose back was turned away and hunched over his latest creation intended to get easy money._

_"Nothing is going to happen. Nothing has, and nothing will, stop freaking out over me like you're my dad or something."_

_"I'm not your dad, but I am your brother, in case you forgot, butthead."_

_"You are?" Hiro blurted, turning craning his torso around slightly to face Tadashi better as he feigned shock. "This is news to me, we need to stop the presses right now- you are my brother! This revelation is too shocking for me to comprehend, please, give me some time to myself to wrap my head around this idea!"_

_"Unbelievable." A trademark phrase saved for only the most frustrating of situation. With Hiro, that was nearly every situation. "Fine, waste your time with some stupid toy! I won't argue with a brick wall, and it's clear you're not going to budge." With that, the elder of the two headed downstairs, leaving his younger brother to sit and mull over the sharp words meant to slice at him, that were meant to sting. Tadashi knew Hiro hated it when his bots were called toys- both were aware the tech involved was far too advanced to be called such, but at that point, frustration had taken the reigns on Tadashi's words._

Sighing, Tadashi reluctantly pulled away from his bed, casting away the notion of sleep in favor of making amends.

"I understand if you're still mad, but I really am sorry about what I said. The things you build, no matter what they're for, are not toys, they aren't trivial, and I'm sorry."

Nothing but silence, it was starting to hurt. The elder Hamada stood and made his way towards the lump beneath Hiro's sheets, hand coming to rest on it. Panic rushed through Tadashi when his palm sank abnormally far into the mound, he immediately pulled back the sheets and was greeted with a pillow, a face drawn on a piece of paper and taped to it. Oh god.

One would think after several months of dealing with Hiro's dangerous bot-battling shenanigans, Tadashi wouldn't be so afraid, but every time there was even a sliver of a chance that Hiro was in trouble, the older sibling couldn't help but spiral into crisis-mode. The pang of apprehension was more intense than normal- he feared for his baby brother's life. He began searching for something-anything to give him a clue to where Hiro had run off to. Wasting no time being idle, Tadashi immediately rushed to Hiro's computer, moving the mouse erratically to shake the monitor awake and off of it's black screensaver. To his relief, it looked like Hiro forgot to close the window that he was on- Looked like some kind of forum page.

The original poster wrote in lingo meant to mask the illegal intent, lingo that, luckily as well as unfortunately, Tadashi had picked up on due to his brother.

"Oh no." he muttered beneath his breath as he stumbled back, grateful that he had not yet removed his shoes. "Hiro, you _idiot_!" he hissed as he bounded down the steps. East side. Hiro went to the East side of San Fransokyo, the place most rampant with murder, prostitution, and drugs. He was going to _kill_ Hiro the minute he got him out of there and safely tucked into bed. Of all the places he could have slipped off to, this was literally the worst possible location! Cars honked at Tadashi's abnormally hectic driving, but the blood rushing through his ears muffled it, he was too furious to care- too _afraid._

He wasted no time parking his motorcycle and chaining her up before bounding behind the sketchy Chinese restaurant that supposedly was the place for the meetup. It was empty- probably disbanded minutes ago, according to the scattered scraps of shrapnel and screws still littering the ground. "HIRO!" He called out, looking around, trying to steady his breaths so he could hear if someone called back. Tadashi's chest was rising and falling, he was prepared to bolt at even a hint of distress. He was dizzy and growing sick with worry.

There were so many alleys that branched off from where he stood, his brother could be anywhere. Thoughtlessly, he sprinted to the one closest to his right, calling out for Hiro like his life depended on it.

He only stopped when he heard the sound of wheezing and harsh thuds. Tadashi was around the corner in seconds, looking at a group of burly men beating the shit out of-

"HIRO!" Any remaining logic was thrown to the wind as Tadashi ran towards the gathering, trying to push them off and aside to get to the bleeding mess that was his brother. Oh god, he wasn't moving... Before he could open his mouth again, a fist came whirling into his jaw, knocking off his balance, leaving him vulnerable as a few men began to swarm upon Tadashi for intervening. He could feel fingers grapple at his arms, forcing them behind his back as he was shoved to the ground a few feet from the curled up form that could only be Hiro, He was softly sobbing, blood bubbling out of his mouth and onto the filthy pavement. One eye seemed swollen nearly shut, the other looked at Tadashi with those wide, fearful eyes, almost as if he had seen a monster, it was as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

The sight alone made Tadashi wriggle and scream, anything to break the distance of those miles between the two, he needed to cradle his baby brother. "Hiro..."

"And just who, pray tell," A voice piped up, the owner coming into view and using the toe of his shoe to tilt Tadashi's chin up, "are you?"

"That's my line." Replied Tadashi, fighting back the ache in his jaw just to spit bitter words at who dared lay a finger on his brother. He looked at the man, a tall figure, eyes like black holes, sucking away the light of anything that dared get too close, void of clemency. Tadashi's eyes then darted to Hiro, who began sputtering after a harsh kick to the gut. The elder sibling tried to inch forward, panicked and hopelessly trying to reach Hiro. The man seemed amused by Tadashi's response. His spidery fingers rested over his thin lips and acutely sharp chin, as if trying to hide a smile. After a moment, he let the hand fall and his foot fly. The kick to Tadashi's face was merciless, the heel caught against his ear, making it ache like fire, and the blow he had endured earlier just _had_ to be on the same side, the fresh kick made sure to remind the Hamada of that.

"This isn't a game, idiot. Answer right this time or the next thing I use is a knife on that pretty face. Got it?" This just went from bad to worse.

"Tadashi, not that you would have heard of me." He groaned, attempting to reach and cradle his face before remembering that someone was restraining his hands.

"Can't say that I have. As for me? Call me 'Kuro'." Replied the man evenly. "You know, you made a biiiig mistake getting into my business. I don't like it when people cut in." The voice alone could make the bravest of men cower. A hand dug into his coat, pulling out a pocket knife. "Normally I would cut you out, but something tells me you know the little snot over yonder, correct?"

Tadashi never once looked away from his brother, who looked so afraid. Tadashi failed. He failed Hiro, and now they were both in very big trouble. Hiro looked to his sibling, his good eye widening as he shook his head 'no'.

"Just tell me what you want from him. Does he owe you money? I-I have money, I can give it to you, just don't hurt him, he's just a _kid._"

"Just a kid with a big brain. I don't want money, Tadashi. I want this," Kuro waved the neurotransmitter just above Tadashi, making him pry his eyes away from the wounded child up to the object of desire, "to work on me."

Scared shitless, Tadashi looked one last time at Hiro, who returned the look with something that was sincere, apologetic.

"This doesn't have anything to do with him- let him go!" Hiro called from where he was, the first thing he had said since Tadashi had come. "Tadashi- Tadashi just run, let him go! Let him go, please! Hurt me all you want, just let him go!"

"Hush, _Hiro_. The adults are talking." Hissed the man, making quick use of the name he heard Tadashi call out before he was beaten to the ground.

"I don't know what Hiro said to you, but he can't help you, because..." Hiro looked to him questioningly, it forced Tadashi to swallow the lump in his throat before continuing. He had to lie for his brother's sake, no puppy-dog look could change his mind this time. " Because I built it. So just let him go and I'll make it for you."

"What are you _doing_?! No, he's _lying_! _I_ made it! Let him go and just take me!" It was clear how desperate Hiro was, damnit, kid. He was too selfless, Tadashi taught him too well...

"You know what I hate more than people who cut in, Tadashi?" Hiro looked at Kuro in horror, scared shitless, confused as all hell, desperate for his brother to be okay.

A foot stomped Tadashi's head into the pavement, the goons previously holding him down lifted him up, his feet limp and his head lolling down. Somewhere in the fog of pain, Hiro's voice could be heard screaming. He felt someone tug on his hair, but the pain was not present with the action, it was only when the blade of a knife rested against his throat that reality began to loose it's haze and sharpen rapidly back into focus. The man leaned in close to Tadashi, breath on his ear, colder than ice. "Liars."

"STOP!" Cried Hiro, who was still writhing beneath the men holding him down, grunting and disregarding the many alarm bells of pain that his body had going off with each twitch. "Just... Just stop. Not my brother." For the first time, Kuro turned his back to Tadashi, walking over to Hiro and crouching down to be a bit more level with him.

"Brother?" He echoed, a hair-rising grin forming upon his face. "'S this your _nii-san_?" Kuro leered.

By the time Hiro realized he had made a mistake, it was too late. The look he gave the man alone was enough of an answer, it made him chuckle.

"Let the kid go, he won't try running. Will you, Hiro? You're a _good, smart, little_ boy, I know you won't." He said mockingly as his goons did as he ordered, ready to pounce if the kid _was_ dumb enough to try and run. Hiro simply stood, still as stone and bravely glaring up at Kuro. There was a storm in those brown, earthy eyes, and it intended to consume Kuro whole for what he did to Tadashi. Kuro seemed unaffected, he had seen far more sinister, looking into the boy's eyes was like appreciatively observing a spice to a meal not quite ready to be served. He let the kid pretend to be threatening, though, and gave him a few moments before smacking his lips and continuing to speak. "Well, Hiro, let's make a nice little deal-"

"No, don't do it, Hiro. Just run, get out of here!" begged Tadashi.

"I'll do what you want, just let him go." Said the boy, looking anywhere but at Kuro's face. Once he realized his anger did nothing, the vulnerability had chipped away at his armor until a meek core was left.

"Sure thing, as soon as you fix this little toy up, he'll be scott free, I guarantee. But don't even think of trying anything funny, I may seem forgiving, but you step out of line once too many, and it's your brother who has to pay with his life." Hiro didn't doubt him, not one bit.

"But just so you know I'm not bluffing," Kuro began, snapping his fingers was a signal enough for his highly trained muscle goons to begin punching Tadashi, roughly slamming him into walls and the floor, anywhere the animals saw fit. "Allow me to demonstrate."

Fear was already present within Hiro, it hadn't left his side the minute he met the man, it heightened when he processed that his brother was actually there, and not just a hallucination- but now, it was at it's highest peak, accompanied with rage. "No! No I understand, I swear!" His shouting fell on deaf ears.

"Don't look Hiro- J-just run!" his brother wheezed out, a punch to the nose soon following his words. Blood was staining their hands, it made Hiro cry and try to run to his brother- to _help_, but he had no power. A single grip around one arm, bone-crushing and firm, kept him in his place, forced to do nothing but watch until his brother was slumped and unconscious, face-down in the ground, bloodied. "'Dashi..." Hiro squeaked. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening.

Even then, he wasn't permitted with running to his brother's body, not allowed to check the damage and apologize or cry. He was forced to just stare, even when a cloth smelling horrendously of heavy chemicals. In his last moments of consciousness, he was forced to look at his brother's body and be reminded of his mistake. He dragged his brother into this, it was all his fault. All his... fault...All... His... Fault... Nothing but blackness enveloped the boy, now.


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N.: More crap. This was really hard for me to write, and these next few chapters will be very difficult to write as well for me. I hope this is good this time, I would like to address the noncon coming up in later chapters. It will be brutal and nonsexualized. I do not want to see comments calling it sex, smut, or sexy. What will happen in this fic is a tragedy, and should not be seen as anything sexual. It is a vile, horrible deed and the only thing that is to be focused on is the pain and irreparable damage. I just figured I would say that now, because I really can't stress how upset I would be to get reviews like that on a story like this, let alone any reviews about waiting for the noncon. I thank you for your patience, consideration, and hopefully, respect.**

* * *

Blackness was such a heavy blanket, like lead that held down Hiro's limbs. He could vaguely feel himself being shuffled about for a few seconds before pure numbness engulfed him. Time seemed to warp between when the oppressive dark came and when it went. It felt like a few seconds, yet also like hours, from when Hiro had blacked out to when consciousness finally crept over him slowly. His vision returned like a soft and gentle wake-up call, but the panic, confusion, and nausea took to stomping Hiro awake.

The first thing he noticed was the stench, which did nothing to help alleviate his nausea.

He felt cold and numb, as if all his limbs were asleep, and the weighted static hindered his movements. He wanted to speak, but his mouth seemed to be unable to do anything but harbor the taste of metal, thick and stinging. His throat did nothing but constrict as he had a fit of gagging, god it smelled _horrible_ in there... Blearily, the kid looked at what he finally deduced was a grungy wall with the one good eye could peer up at it. It was coarse, and smelled of rot. After a few minutes of staring at that wall, the boy was finally able to sit up, with a little struggling, but eventually successful. Once he had managed that, regret was instant, much like the oncoming dizziness that had him feeling as if he were spinning. He couldn't remember why he was there, what had happened...

That was when Hiro began to panic. It took him several moments of his mind racing to realize that the wheezing noise in the background was his own desperate gasps, so foreign to him that he stopped to listen to them, to confirm that his lungs were indeed taking in so much oxygen at such a fast pace that such a desperate noise was produced. Everything was so dark, the room was flooded with black and greys, the only light coming from a dying lamp on the far end of the room, beside a door. Hiro's mind was staggering, it was trying to leap into action only to fall on its knees with every step. Where was he? Hiro looked to his left to see a sprawled body of a man, which flickered a quick succession of events back to the boy's mind. Slowly, his memories returned, like paper soaking up ink. He had been attacked and taken, along with-

"Tadashi?!" Without really bothering to focus on the twirling room around him, Hiro called for his brother, unable to pay attention to his surroundings when they spun like a carousel. All he could do was sit, propped against the wall and cradle himself to fight the oncoming wave of illness that threatened to drag him down. He heard no response from the body or anything else, and that was when true fear began to emerge from its darkest depths to torture the Hamada's mind.

His brother wasn't there, he was somewhere else, possibly being hurt, possibly dead. Because of him.

Hiro had never felt so weak. Physically and mentally. If he had just LISTENED to his brother, he wouldn't have gotten them into this mess, and now he was forced to sit alone with a stranger in a room that _reeked_ of death as if there was a-

_A corpse in it._

By now, the twisting vision had stopped for the most part, which meant that Hiro could take his first real look at the body several feet away from him, just barely in the light to be observed. He was afraid to look, so afraid that he would stare death in the face. It couldn't be Tadashi. It would take days for something to smell that bad, right? Tadashi or not, _somebody_ was dead in that room, rotting within feet of Hiro. Horror struck the core of the kid's chest, it felt as if it had grabbed him by the ribcage and used it like handles to shove him back against the wall, though it only took a moment of thinking to realize that he had just instinctively scrambled as far as he could from the body. All he could think of doing was screaming. Just screaming until his throat burned, but another part of him screeched with alarms before any noise could escape from his person. If he screamed, people would come into the room, and then that room might possibly have _two_ corpses. It was this fear that had made Hiro clap his hand to his mouth, muffling a ragged yelp and a withering whimper.

It was hard to tell how long he sat in a corner of the dark room, nose tucked beneath his shirt to try and block the scent of death that had poor Hiro's stomach tightening into hard knots. It could have been minutes, hours, seconds. Time seemed to lose meaning as Hiro's mind froze. Eventually, it thawed, first slowly, trickles of thoughts passing through his mind, and then he was practically drowning in a sea of thoughts. The thoughts and fears alone could very easily become the cause of Hiro's death, a mental poison that spread from his mind to his veins, clogging them. Suffocating him. He had no idea where he was, where his brother was, how many people were around, how dangerous they were, how he could get out of there- and it was pretty clear that he needed to find a way _out_ before someone found their way _in._

There was no time for crying, nor for pretending this was a dream. The suspended threat that his brother could be killed, that he, himself, could be killed, was a driving force that had wobbling knees fighting to stand. "No windows, one door. No windows, one door..." Hiro murmured to himself, words acting as a solid crutch for him to lean upon while his brain kicked into heavier gears. It was hard to ignore the way one eye throbbed, like a filthy worm being poked over and over. Again, Hiro looked around the room. _No windows, one door. __One lamp. _

One corpse. Which the kid did his best to swerve as far away from as possible on his unsteady route to the door. It would be locked, of course, unless these guys were complete morons. Just to make sure, Hiro carefully pressed a cupped hand to the door and rested an ear against it to listen tentatively. There wasn't a soul out there, it would seem. Good. Softly, he grasped the knob and turned it, and as expected, it stopped short with a very urgent click. Great. Just great. Trapped in a room with a dead, rotting body, and probably about to join the same fate if he didn't figure something out quickly. At this point, Hiro's eye darted around the room, desperately scraping along the barren setting for anything that may seem remotely useful picking a lock. He needed something flat, thin, and flexible, like a credit card. _Yeah, sure, a credit card would just magically and conveniently be placed in that room for me, try again, genius. _

"Unless..." Hiro said aloud, his voice shaking and his throat tightening from the revelation. The body in the room still had clothes on, possibly still had a few basic possessions, maybe something that goons would overlook, like a wallet, and some kind of card. Nnot an I.D. that could be used to identify the body if found, but maybe a nameless library card, or some membership card on a keychain. Now the process was simple in theory, but in practice Hiro didn't even have half the stomach for it. _All I have to do is casually rummage through a dead guy's pockets. No big deal, that's definitely not something that warrants some kind of panic or anything like that._ The Hamada was not at all pleased to do what he had to, he wasn't even sure if he could. That was a person. That was their stuff, he was just. Taking it. It wasn't like picking up a spare part someone left on a robot, this was a person that breathed. A person that laughed, cried, _lived_.

Of course, logic and the need to find a way out greatly outweighed any dwindling morality and respect that Hiro had. He needed to get out more than he needed to avoid a dead man's remains. This in no way made things any easier. At first, Hiro seemed rigid, unable to move his legs, metal scraps that needed oil to get him to budge, then, all at once, he inhaled the putrid air in a large gulp, and hobbled quickly to the body, collapsing beside it. Hiro couldn't hold his breath forever, and when he opened his mouth to breathe, he swore he could feel the rotten fumes rise into his mouth, he could smell it, and he nearly vomited then and there. He needed to get OUT. Wobbling hands shot mindlessly into the man's pockets, thin fabric the only thing between Hiro's skin, and the bloated flesh of the man. That time, Hiro did have to pull himself away and throw up, the taste of bile mingling with decomposing stench. He didn't stop, though, he placed his hand back into the pocket, desperately fishing for anything to make his efforts worth it. He found nothing on one side, so Hiro scrabbled up and around to the man's other side to repeat the process. In the midst of it all, Hiro had begun sobbing, gasping like a dying animal bleeding to death, clinging to life, faintly, but clinging to it nonetheless. Deep within the pocket, there was a metallic and jagged object that brushed over the kid's fingers, and he immediately grabbed for it and yanked his hand out. He didn't care what he had, it was something to possibly use, but the only thing he could find himself to care about was getting as far away from the dead body as possible and releasing a few more sobs that shriveled into ragged wheezes.

He couldn't believe that he just did that.

After Hiro had a better albeit not complete grip on his emotional state, he held up the jangling keys to examine. There were so many, it was unbelievable. Swinging along with the metal keys that had carnivore's teeth, were several thin gift cards to various and equally irrelevant places. All that mattered now was that they were cards that could be used, and Hiro didn't intend to wait around for the opportunity to disappear in the presence of impending danger. Hurriedly, he leaped back up, drowning out the groaning protests of his body with screams for safety and freedom. He stopped at the door, again, scoping the area once more before finally letting his attention fall on the lamp, which flickered accusingly every so often, a low buzz sounding in the dead silent room.

The lamp itself was not too grand, it seemed to be some kind of metal painted bronze, long and sturdy, no lampshade, just the bulb and stand. Small hands grabbed for it, testing the weight and firmness. Hiro decided it would make a good weapon, since only an idiot with a death wish would possibly attempt to escape unarmed. Along with the lamp, he also had keys to act as weapons. With this in mind, he shimmied the plastic cards he needed off of the ring, and placed the key ring in his left hand, a key sandwiched between each finger as he made a tight fist. If he used, the lamp though, he would need to unplug it, which meant being trapped in the dark, which ruled out the lamp as a weapon once more. So just keys. With that sorted out, the boy listened to the door once more, and only when he confirmed there to be absolute silence, he began to get to work.

Trembling hands made it hard to place the card between the door and the jamb, but he managed to do so, and carefully wiggled the card as he tried to get a feel for the lock he was so desperately trying to bypass. Minutes passed and all that was gained was frustration and rising fear. It wasn't working. He kept dropping the card, or it would bend and Hiro would have to snatch at another gift card to replace it. He had bent all but one, and as he grasped it in his hands, the storm beneath his skin let out a low rumbling thunder of a plea. "Please. _Please." _Hiro begged, holding the card so tightly that the plastic sides dug into his skin uncomfortably. Before he could reach his hand out to the doorjamb, though, a loud voice could be heard from the other side of the door, growing ever closer. The babble was indistinct, but harsh, angry, and clearly coming towards the door Hiro was behind.

Horror jolted through Hiro's heart, jumpstarting the organ to the point where it pounded against his chest, desperately trying to beat it's way out and flee. The plastic card was forgotten, dropped on the floor when the boy's free hand shot for something more useful. Though it would result in no light, Hiro grabbed for the lamp's cord and pulled at it as if it were his lifeline. As soon as the light began to die out, Hiro reached for the lamp's metal stand and brandished it, not a single cell in his body was still as he heard the clicking of the door that he had tried so hard to unlock. As soon as the door was opened enough for Hiro to see Kuro, and for Kuro to see Hiro, the kid struck out, shoving the metal up to connect with the adult's chin. He could hear the clack of teeth and didn't stick around to see the anger in the other's eyes. Instead, while the man moved his hands to grasp his face, Hiro grabbed the door and pushed it wide open before he began to bolt for it, lamp still in hand, but keys long forgotten behind him. He could hear the other scream at him, but he didn't bother to process the words, all he could hear was the wind as he ran, the blood as his heart relentlessly beat to an erratic rhythm.

His arm ached. Hiro was sure that he had pulled a muscle by putting all his force into hitting the man. He had no idea where he was going down the corridor, or if it led to anywhere, all he could think to do was run and hope. Unfortunately, Hiro didn't get too far before heavy sets of feet were chasing after him, quickly catching up to him with alarming speed. "I SAID. Get BACK here. YOU. LITTLE," growled one man, his foot stomping on the cord that trailed behind Hiro from the lamp, "BRAT!"

The lamp whipped back, lashing out of the boy's hands and forcing him to stumble for a few seconds too many, and soon, a swarm of criminals were surrounding him, kicking him down and stomping him into the ground, not satisfied until they were sure their prisoner was dust, no different from the rest of the floor that they trampled. Hiro couldn't tell much of a difference between new kicks and old sores, all he knew was curling up in a ball and blocking out the pain was his only option. When the kicking had stopped, the boy made the mistake of looking up, and when he did, he saw Kuro grimacing down at him. His mouth seeming to be full of something. The mystery of what he had in his mouth ended when the contents were spat on Hiro's face, warm spit and blood followed by a merciless blow to the face by the very same lamp that he had used to escape. How easily it could turn on it's wielder was unsurprising, but painful, regardless.

The true struggle was trying to keep a steady expression when dealt such excruciating pain. The cheek was sure to bruise. He wasn't permitted time to recover before he was pulled to his feet, thick fingers pinching the back of his neck as if there was a scruff like a kitten's there. "Brat, you're lucky I don't KILL your brother RIGHT NOW for that BULLSHIT you just pulled!" the voice rattled Hiro's core, made him shrink and shake his head silently. No. No he didn't want his brother to die, but at least now he knew there was a brother still there to die. He was alive. For now.

By the time Kuro had spoken again, he was more composed, he even seemed to laugh it off, like someone had pulled a miniscule prank and he too, could laugh at his own expense. "Smart, kid. Not smart enough, but smart. Maybe you should be using that intelligence to make what I want instead of using it to put your family at risk, eh? I was even coming in there to make that room more live-able for you, but I'm having second thoughts. I mean, I know kids these days love their own personal space, so I thought, I could make an old friend move out and give you your isolation, but if you're being a little shit, maybe you should keep your roommate. Not like he talks much, though he takes up a bit of room, and he's got horrible body odor."

The pack of men seemed to get a kick out of what Kuro said, of course they would, those revolting murderers. "You're sick." Hiro hissed, anger bubbling up along with disgust. That was a person, and that man treated his death like a joke, like it was nothing.

"Keen observation, champ, I'd give you a prize, but I've got nothing but my looks."

"Where's Tadashi?"

"Alive, and as far as I'm concerned, that's all you deserve to know."

"Where is he?!" Hiro screamed, budging maybe half an inch in an attempt to lunge at Kuro before being held in place.

"I don't give secrets to rude little brats."

Hiro's gaze fell to the ground, sweeping the floor as his mind and tongue debated with each other. "I'm sorry." He spit out.

Kuro seemed less than impressed.

"I'm scared and hurt pretty bad, I just want to make sure my brother is okay and I promise I'll do what you want." It physically hurt to verbally submit.

This seemed to be what the man was waiting to hear, and as soon as the last word was uttered, he flashed a bloody grin, kneeling down to be level with Hiro's face. Without warning, he reached a hand out to Hiro's purpled, bruised eye, and the boy flinched immediately. This seemed to deter Kuro's action for only a few moments before he continued to reach out, finally touching it and reveling in the hiss of pain from Hiro.

"I knew you were a good kid. You just made a bad mistake is all, but it's all right now. I'll get you patched up and show you your brother, and then you need to get to work. Got it?" He seemed to punctuate his question with a slight press to Hiro's eye, making him yelp and reach for it.

"Yes." Hiro replied.

"Yes what?" snarled Kuro as he pressed harder on the eye. Hiro's nerves shrieked.

"Yes, sir."

"There we are, what a smart, quick boy." The condescending tone was so tempting to scorn, but for the sake of Tadashi, Hiro ground his teeth together and silently took it.

"Where is he?"

The ends of the man's harlequin smile split further on each end.

"Follow me."


End file.
